


As Sick as a Dog

by HotCocoaMocha



Series: Dog Days [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coughing, Gen, Illnesses, Marauders' Era, Sickfic, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-07 05:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17360087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotCocoaMocha/pseuds/HotCocoaMocha
Summary: SickAdjectiveAffected by physical or mental illnessDogNounA domesticated carnivorous mammal that typically has a long snout, an acute sense of smell, and a barking, howling, or whining voice"(As) sick as a dog"InformalExtremely ill





	As Sick as a Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Feeling congested with a runny nose and feeling like you can't breathe is bad enough without a fever when you have bronchitis. But you know, sick fics.
> 
> Enjoy~

He wakes up to a pounding in his head, a bone-deep ache and a chill spreading through his body, in spite of the warmth of the two layers of blankets. A few coughs carve their way up out of his scratchy throat, each one sending a sharp pain to his chest, as if it isn't difficult enough to breathe.

 

Loud whispers fill his ears, but it's hard to concentrate on their words. They say something about a cold or a flu for three weeks, but that's hardly anything new. (Well, the bit about a cold or a flu for that long doesn't sound right...)

 

" _P_ _ads...Sirius? Hey, you awake?_ "

 

A pleasantly cool hand lays on his forehead, accompanied by a soft hiss and more murmuring; and Sirius feels himself fading back into sleep, but not quite. He's stuck on the edge between wakefulness and slumber, too tired to stay awake but still too restless.

 

He hears water dribbling into water, like a barely running faucet pouring into a full basin. Something soft and damp pats his face, dabbing itself here and there until it finally presses against his forehead like the hand before, and it's enough to pull him to...semi-reality? He's awake now, but he can hardly say he's fully aware.

 

"Morning, Padfoot."

 

Remus is on the edge of the bed leaning over him, the cold rag in hand while a charmed tray hovers nearby. Sirius smells the potato soup, but his stomach doesn't growl or twist. It's not churning or anything, it's just not  _feeling_  anything; so rather than sitting up and taking the spoon, he lays there, eyeing the tray with disinterest.

 

Pulling the rag away, Remus smiles in an obvious attempt to brighten the mood. "Think you can take a few bites? It's already past nine, and you still haven't had breakfast."

 

Sirius closes his eyes for a few seconds, taking a moment to breathe, and opens his mouth to answer; but a barking cough comes out instead. Jeez, he sounds like a dying crup...

 

Remus frowns at the way Sirius wheezes after, no matter how quiet he tries to be. "That's definitely not normal," he mumbles. He helps Sirius prop himself up on the pillows before handing him a glass of water. "Why haven't gone to Pomfrey yet?"

 

Shrugging halfheartedly, Sirius mumbles, "Was fine...'or the mos' part..." He carefully tugs the floating tray over and picks up the spoon, taking small bites of the soup if only to to wipe the disapproving look off of Remus's face. He sighs contently from the warmth of the soup flooding him.

 

"Better?" Remus asks.

 

Sirius nods. "Better."

 

He curls back up under the blankets as Remus leaves with the tray. His blurry dreams are filled with his friends whispering to each other for some reason, an extra blanket being tucked over him, a soft rocking like a ship, clouds puffy to the touch and...the smell of some kind of disinfectant...?

 

When Sirius wakes up, he's in the hospital wing, and Pomfrey and Lily go on a tirade about his lack of self-care.


End file.
